Boreas: The North Wind
by Fields-of-Avalar
Summary: It's been a few years after the war with Malefore came to a close, and as the dragons slowly begin to rebuilt both their city and their race, Terrador, Volteer and Cyril can't help but feel the burden of the war. Two species of dragon were wiped from existence and history, at least that's what the Guardians thought, until a desperate Dragoness dies trying to protect her only egg.
1. Prolouge

The day was beautiful, birds were singing, the grass was growing, and the residents of Warfang were going about their days as if nothing was wrong. The truth was nothing was wrong or had been wrong for several years now. The war that had nearly decimated the entire dragon race was slowly fading from the memories of those who had been around to see it, though history would always remember what had happened, the dragons pushed the thoughts aside to be happy.

Rebuilding Warfang had not been easy. When the dark master's legion had marched on the city, they left destruction in their wake, as such many of the buildings had been destroyed and social order had taken a back seat. Thankfully dragons who had once lived in a settlement known as the shattered vale had come to aid in the restoration of the great city. Cheetah, dragon, and mole alike all worked hard to make the city as it once was, though an addition was made that none could see fault in.

A statue had been erected in the center square of the city, the statue was of a dragon a cheetah and a mole, all of whom had remained nameless and had fallen in the battle for Warfang. The statue was a commemoration of all those who had fought hard and died. Those whose remains could not be identified and were thus given the honor of being remembered as faceless soldiers who fought till their last breath.

Once again it seemed that peace had finally returned to the dragon realms, but the effects of the war could still be felt by those who had been around since it's start. Dragons lived long lives. It was not uncommon for a dragon to reach to to 300 years of age, however, despite the longevity of their lives, only three dragons had survived from the wars beginning to it's end. They alone felt the full burden of the war and what it had taken from the world. Many dragons who they called friends had died, and many species had gone extinct.

While most dragons walked about the city of Warfang, with joy and content on their faces, three dragons, who were by every right the oldest living dragons in existence, remained within the newly constructed temple. There they watched the city, their bones creaking with old age. Long had it been since they should have stopped to relax and allow their bodies to rest, but the post war society needed to be carefully guided, to be reshapened back into the old traditions that dragons held for countless years. Dragons needed to be carefully guided back onto the path of their ancestors.

"Come away from the window, Terrador, you'll find no dissent by simply looking at the city." A shrill and tired voice called from the shade as he sat on a royal blue body pillow.

Sighing the dragon known as Terrador turned away from the window to glance at his fellow elder. Terrador was a large green dragon, Scars ran the length of his body, and a large crack ran down his chest plate, a testament to his many long fought battles. Two plates closely resembling boulders rested near his shoulders making the old green dragon appear to be wearing pauldrons. His dark green eyes seemed to be faded with time and his tail lightly dragged against the ground as he moved to rest on his own body pillow, the large spiked ball that made up his tail tip long since having been worn down.

"I do not watch the city in fear of chaos." Terrador spoke, his voice deep and booming with authority, despite the fact that it gave away how old he truly was. "The war has long since ended yet I still find joy in watching as dragons enjoy peace."

"Indeed, it has been a long time since dragons have been this happy." the shrill voice from before agreed.

Leaning forward the dragon on the blue pillow was sat his head in the light of the sun. Icy blue scales faded nearly to white shone dully in the light. The purple chest plates were faded as well, as the ice shaped Pauldron plates seemed broken and brittle. His tail while dull, still looked to hold a sort of elegance to it, as it's unique shape seemed like that of ice. His dull blue eyes closed for but a moment as a small smile crossed his face before it faded and he let his body fall from exhaustion.

"Speaking of dragons being happy, Terrador it is my understanding that your new mate has had a clutch not to long ago. It had been my impression that your time of vitality had long since passed. I have to ask, for the sake of knowing how you fair, does the clutch bear life?" A third voice asked.

The third voice while still speaking of age, held an energy that the other two dragons seemed to lack. The third voice was alive with curiosity and determination. Stepping forward a bit to be better seen, the faded electric yellow scales showed the dragons age. White electrical markings lined his body, the yellow from within them having long since faded could now be mistaken for scares. While all three dragons did bear scars, this yellow dragon held far less scars then his companions. Like his voice his eyes were alive and moving, taking in every detail he could.

"Volteer!" Chastized the blue dragon as he lifted his head, an angry glare on his face. The Yellow dragon, Volteer seemed not to notice or care for the blue dragon's reaction. "You should hold your tongue long enough to allow your brain to catch up to it."

"Be calm, Cyril," Terrador spoke, his voice silencing the blue dragon. His words held no malice or disdain for Volteer or his question. "Our clutch bears life and strong life at that," he replied a small smile gracing his rough features for but a moment. "Gaia, has already chosen an egg to remain at home with us."

"Good show old chap," Cyril congratulated Terrador, his anger towards Volteer seemingly gone now. "Even as your life wanes you still seem to keep the lineage going, I have long since given up the hope of siring another whelp."

"Indeed. Though I admit, I am not as verial as I once was. I myself feared that I would fail in producing a clutch." he seemed to sigh though. "Gaia was displeased when she had to part with the other eggs though. Even my explanation that it was the way of our ancestors did little to ease her sorrow." Terrador lowered his head at this, sighing heavily as the weight of the world seemed to take residence upon his shoulders.

"The war may have destroyed much of our society, but the old laws still stand." Volteer replied returning to his yellow body pillow, his bones causing him grief. "In time we will change the laws, but for now we must grasp at what we know. Dragons must first learn of their past so that they may shape their future." He added for good measure.

"While I agree that the old ways are outdated, I find myself agreeing with Volteer. The old laws are all we know, and with the war still so close to the hearts of many we must ensure that the dragons will be able to cope and live in some measure of prosperity. If that means that each dragon claims only one egg in a clutch, then it must be so." Cyril said shaking his head in shame.

"You agreeing with Volteer?" Terrador asked in surprise. "We must truly be in worse shape than I thought if you find your only options is to agree." He joked, causing Volteer to laugh as Cyril huffed in mild agitation.

"As I said, the old laws are all we know, better to stick to them, than waste time trying to form new laws, that may or may not stick. The old laws were fair and ensured peace, of that you cannot deny." Terrador sighed at this and nodded his head.

"Ay, that they did, but I fear we may not see the day that the laws can be changed. Rebuilding or great race will be hard work, and even then we may not succeed. of the six races of dragons only four remain, and those of fire remain without proper guidance." All three bowed their heads at that as they remembered the fallen races.

Before the time of the Dark Master there had been six races of dragons. Those of fire, born from the flames of magma and masters of destruction. Those of the earth, who were born as the plates within the core of the world brushed against each other and gave form to those who would mold the soil as they saw fit. Those born from the sky and given the powers of the lightning. Those formed from ice and chill of the frozen tundra. Those of the deep ocean who had long been eradicated by pollution, and finally those of the wind who traveled the world and was said to give the wind life.

Those of the wind had been the first to be killed. The darkmaster had used his dark and twisted arts to break the wind dragons and strip them of their power. It was a punishment for their refusal to teach Malefor the arts of the wind. As such he had stripped them of their power and claimed it for his own. Without their powers, the wind dragons had slowly begun to die off. Their non-combatant nature had made them the perfect prey for the predators of the world.

" May our cousins find peace with the Ancestors." Volteer said as he lifted his head.

"May our cousins find with with the Ancestors ." Terrador and Cyril mimicked before they raised their heads as well.

"How many clutches have been laid this season?" Terrador spoke up looking at Volteer, the moment of his sorrow having passed to be replaced with his business as usual demeanor.

"Including yours? 13." he replied shaking his head in distaste at such a low number. "Each clutch averages at around 3 eggs, with the exception of one holding six," Terrador turned to face away from Volteer doing the math in his head.

"Is this before or after the parents have claimed an egg?"

"Before," Volteer replied his head sagging.

"Ancestors, such a low birth rate?" Cyril asked shocked. "How many dragons are currently in Warfang?"

"We're not sure, but the last time I've checked we're ranging around five hundred, with more dragons still setting up settlements outside of the city." Volteer said as he went over the numbers in his head.

"What of Spyro and Cynder? Do they reside in the city or are they taking up residence in Avalar?" Terrador suddenly asked, getting the other two dragons to perk up slightly.

"Last I heard they took up residence in the residential district of Warfang." Cyril added, getting Terrador to nod.

"If we can get those two to agree to persuade more dragons to come to Warfang, perhaps we'll be able to return this city to it's status as the capital of the dragon realms. This city could be considered a shining beacon of hope to those outside it's walls, assuming we have the space of course."

"I've had the moles go around the city and take a census, while not fully back to it's original state, Warfang is still capable of housing at least ten thousand dragons. once repairs are finished, that number nearly triple in size." Nodding his head Terrador turned to face Cyril.

"How about the schools? are any young one's born during the time of war using them?"

"Yes and no," Cyril replied taking a deep breath he tried to recall the report given to him by the moles. "I don't think we can even consider them schools. The current content of the 'lessons' is severely lacking. I'd recommend that the temple be turned into a temporary school so that we can carefully monitor the lessons and correct any mistakes that may appear. Perhaps some of the mole scholars could teach the young ones the basics of math and science,"

"I good idea, we might be able to teach the next generation about the old ways." a murmur of agreement went around the room before there was a soft knocking on the door, causing the three elder dragons to turn and look at it. "Enter." Terrador commanded.

Slowly the door pushed its way inward before a mole quickly entered the room, bowing slightly to the dragons he straightened up a bit before approaching the the three dragons. "Masters, Terrador, Cyril and Volteer," The mole spoke, the impression that he was speaking from his nose instead of his mouth passed through a few of their minds before it passed.

"You may speak." Cyril said as he waved his paw in boredom.

Nodding the mole began to clear his throat as he pulled out a scroll from under his breast plate. "My men and I received a report from the hero's Spyro and Cynder." he began instantly getting the attention from all three dragons. "They claimed they were out on date, relaxing when something troubling happened nearby.'

"Spyro claims that he watched as a dragoness ran across a river being chased by the cursed skeletal remains of the apes. She was in a terrible state, but Spyro and Cynder quickly came to her aid. They were able to dispatch of the apes, but it seems the dragoness was succumbing to her wounds." The three dragons lowered their heads in a silent prayer to the Ancestors as the mole recounted the tale. "Spyro claims she was holding an egg to her chest, and was begging that he bring it to the city. Before she passed she seemed to speak to the egg and called it...Boreas." The mole finished as he placed the scroll back in his breastplate. "Spyro and Cynder are currently waiting outside in the hall. What would you have me tell them?"

"Send them in." Terrador commanded. The mole nodded his head and gave a short bow before turning around and walking out the door.

A moment later two dragons walked in. The first which was male, was a royal purple with golden chestplates. His eyes, a deep amethyst shade looked around the room before taking in the sight of the three elder dragons. A smile crossed his face as he moved to stand in front of Terrador. The purple dragon stood just a foot shorter than Terrador, and by comparison, Terrador was obviously the stronger of the two, despite his old age. The second dragon, a female with a more slender frame, walked in beside Spyro. Her scales were a darker shade of purple bordering on black, her chest plates a deep crimson. Clutched tightly to her chest was something large and white.

Leaning forward slightly, Terrador got a better look at what the dragoness was holding, and noted with a bit of surprise that it was a white egg. The fact that she held an egg was not what had surprised him, the reporting mole had already reported that they had brought the egg with them, no what surprised him was the egg itself. The pale whiteness of the egg was broken only by spots of red, which smelled faintly of blood. Where the blood covered the egg, indents could be seen on the surface, the lines forming what looked like swirls and loops, the lines sticking out in the small patches of blood.

Turning to his fellow guardians he saw that they were just as enraptured by the sight of the egg as well as he was. It had been nearly three centuries since last an egg like this had been seen by any of them. Turning to face the two dragons again Terrador cleared his throat to gain some of his composer back.

"Spyro," he said his eyes focusing on the young male. "it's good to see you and Cynder again."

"It's good to see you as well Terrador, it's been what...three weeks?" Spyro asked as he tried to remember correctly.

"Three weeks and five days," Volteer interjected.

"Yes it's been awhile since we saw each other last, but rebuilding our race requires a lot of attention." Terrador replied crestfallen.

"We understand, Terrador." Cynder, the female dragon, said giving the elder dragon a sympathetic look.

"Spyro my dear boy, I don't mean to interrupt but could you and Cynder tell us first hand what happened that caused you two to come into possession of that egg?" Cyril spoke up from his spot on his pillow, his joints ached and he wasn't up for standing just yet.

"Oh yeah. Well, Cynder and me wanted to get away from the city for a while, some of the dragons and moles like to come to us for advice or to praise us. We headed for the river that leads to Avalar and passes through the woods. Then Cynder said she heard something. We didn't have to wait long before a dragoness ran out from some tree's." Spyro started.

"We saw that some of the cursed ape skeletons were chasing her so we jumped in to save her, but when we got near, she blew them back with a wind attack. We were shocked at first but then Spyro remembered she was still in danger so we jumped in and took care of the skelations. When we went to help the dragoness, she was crying and talking to her egg."

"She was calling the egg Boreas, but when she saw us approaching her, she shoved the egg into Cynder's paws and told us to bring the egg to Warfang." Spyro finished.

"This Dragoness? What was the color of her scales?" Terrador asked tentatively.

"White." Spyro and Cynder said at the same time.

Turning to Volteer and Cyril, Terrador's face lit up in joy, a similar look appearing on the faces of his fellow elders. "The wind dragons survived."


	2. Chapter 1: Warfang Meetings

The next day the elders held a funeral for the wind dragoness. Her body was brought into the city and placed atop a pyre in the center of the city. Dragons and moles alike came to watch in curiosity and surprise as Terrador gave an eulogy. He spoke of the wind dragons as he had remembered them, and then spoke of the beauty of the dragoness whose life was ended far too early, finally he spoke of the egg which she had left behind.

Many were surprised to see the wind dragon, the white scales having only been seen in books and heard about in legends. The wind dragons had not been completely forgotten as Terrador, Volteer and Cyril had thought, no it seemed that dragons who had past years ago, had told their children of the kindness and generosity of their white scaled cousins. The children had most likely told their children and so on, the truth slowly fading and the wind dragons turning into legends, and becoming some kind of hero of the dragon realms.

Finishing his eulogy, Terrador said a quick prayer to the Ancestors before he stepped back. A fire dragon from the crowd quickly stepped forward and blew a gentle flame under the pyre. All of Warfang watched as the flames slowly consumed the wood and then the body of the dragoness, more prayers were said from those among the crowd. The prayers ranged from hopes of safe passage to the afterlife for the dragoness, to the best wishes for her egg.

When nothing but ashes remained of the dragoness and the pyre, Cynder stepped forward at the request of Terrador, and used her wind breath to send the dragonesses ashes into the air. It had been tradition that wind dragon's ashes be sent off on the wind as their belief was that they came from the wind and should thus return to the wind when they died.

Some other races had similar beliefs, fire dragons for instance would find the nearest source of magma and lower their dead into said magma. Ice dragons, if at all possible, would encase their dead in ice, so that they might never age in death. Earth dragons however simply buried their dead in the ground like the moles and cheetahs, though earth dragons would place a boulder over the sight of the grave and those closest to the deceased would have their names carved into the stone.

The funeral came to a close the crowd began to disperse those who had not yet left quickly did so now their lives calling to them. While no dragons wept for the dragoness who had passed, a heavy cloud hung over Warfang that day, as sorrow and grief took hold of the minds of everyone. Such was the way of things, when a legend died.

Returning to their conference room, the three elders, along with Spyro and Cynder, would have much to discuss in the coming days. Plans would need to be made, and while the arrival of the egg of a wind dragon was big news, it did not constitute a valid excuse to abandon their duties. Spyro and Cynder, while technically holding no power in the decisions of Warfang's future, came along at the request of Terrador. The two younger dragons had helped to save the world from the dark master, and as such all three elders respected their opinions, and sought insight on the happenings inside the city. They could see things that the elders could not, for their age caused them great grief, and they could not walk the streets as they once could.

Taking their regular seats. Terrador, Cyril, and Volteer, all grunted as their bones shifted. Spyro and Cynder took up two new cushions that had been brought for them and both relaxed as they waited for the elders to settle. Once that was done Terrador spoke first as his gaze fell to the center of the circle that their bodies had made. In the center, resting comfortably on a stand which had a half oval carved into it, sat what the elders and the two young dragons had begun to call Boreas's egg.

"My friends," he began his old voice ringing with life once more. "The arrival of Boreas's egg fills me with hope once more. I think I speak for all of us when I say that things will look up for our race in the coming years," Murmurs of agreement and nods came from around the circle. "But Boreas's egg must wait, for we have much to discuss. Hope alone will not ensure our races survival."

"Well said Terrador," Cyril replied as he straightened himself on his pillow, his faded eyes glowing.

"Thank you Cyril, now onto pressing matters. The death of the wind dragoness, while tragic in of itself, has me worried that more danger lurks outside our walls. The cursed skeletons that were once the apes, still run amok. We can not truly kill them for they are already dead, and bound to the shadows,"

"Quite right, Cursed with vile dark magic, the creatures seek to gain power, but will never have it. This makes them ravenous and quite possibly the most dangerous creatures alive to date." Volteer added.

"Yes we are all aware of their curse. I thank the Ancestors that they still hold their cowardice even in death, I fear it is the only thing that keeps them from our city, nevertheless we must take action to prevent more deaths. They cannot survive long in the sun, which is a blessing, but until we are able to raise warriors to defend our home, we must take action."

"What would you suggest Terrador? We cannot keep the citizens locked within the walls of Warfang," Cyril commented.

"No we can't, nor can we keep them from the forests where the creatures lie. Our only course of action is to warn the citizens, of the dangers the forests conceal, and and assure them of the safety that Warfang provides them."

"What if we started a sort of guard?" Volteer suddenly asked. "We would only take volunteers, and as I recall a few good dragons are just skilled enough to repeal such dark creatures. The guard would not be nearly up to the same standards the Warfang warriors of old, but perhaps if the citizens see their friends and family in armor and patrolling the streets, they may see the benefit of staying close by." Volteer said, his mouth moving fast enough that it appeared it was trying to catch up to the words coming from it.

"Wow Volteer!" Cynder Suddenly said, breaking the silence and saying what everyone was thinking. "I haven't heard you talk so fast, since before the war ended." Volteer only blushed in reply as Cyril laughed.

"Volteer's wagging tongue aside, I think he has an excellent idea," Cyril spoke up, getting his laughter under control. "The citizens cannot look to us for protection and despite Spyro and Cynder's reputation, they still fear the monsters from the war. They will not be expected to defend the city but they will be prepared in case the need were ever to arise."

"I see merit in the suggestion," Terrador mused aloud. "If you cannot seek comfort in the walls that protect you, look instead to those who you know. I don't think we need to put it to a vote, Volteer and you seem to think it a good idea, and I can't find fault with it either, but I wish to know your thoughts on the matter." he said turning to look at Spyro and Cynder.

"I'm not to keen on the idea of dragons just signing up to guard the rest." Spyro began carefully. "What if some young dragon wants to prove something and ends up getting himself killed? It would only cause more problems than it would good."

"I don't know Spyro, what if the guard had a mandatory training schedule? Those dragons who aren't as experienced would have more training hours which would keep them busy, and out of trouble while at the same time preparing them for any danger." Turning to Terrador she continued. "I think this would help restore faith in Warfang, but I think the dragons who have more training hours shouldn't even be allowed to patrol the streets, at least not at first, and when they do start, maybe assigns them a more experienced guard to watch them and keep them in line."

Terrador nodded. The extra training hours and mentors would keep younger and more foolish dragons from making mistakes. There was of course the truth that no matter what they did, young dragons would still do foolish things. "Cyril, Volteer. What say you?"

"Spyro makes a point, but the benefits far outway the risks, and Cynder's proposal would help to minimise any mishaps and keep young dragons in line. I'm for the idea of a guard." Cyril said nodding his head.

"Quite right, Cyril. I couldn't have said it better myself, I cast my vote for the guard."

"Then it is settled, we will form a guard to watch the city and put the fears of the citizens to rest. We can smooth the details out later but for now, we must move on to other matters. Cyril how goes the the hunt for knowledgeable dragons and moles to run a school here in the temple?"

"Ah the hunt goes well Terrador. The moles as you know have a network of communication, word spreads fast through them, and already several moles have come forward with claims that they can teach math, science, and history. I've also gotten reports of a few dragons who are in possession of certain materials that would benefit the school. Attempts to convince them to donate said materials are ongoing but I have high hopes."

"Good. Any sort of education we can give the current generation of whelps is welcomed. Volteer what about our food supply?"

"Chief Prowles has agreed to our request and will provide the city with meat, in exchange they'll be allowed access to some of the gardens, so that they can grow their herbs and medicinal plants," Volteer said happily.

"Excellent, while we're on the subject of medical resources, how does our supply of red gems looking?" Terrador asked.

"Not well I'm afraid." Volteer replied a little crestfallen. "While serious injuries have been on a decline, we've still gone through a decent size of our reserves. While we still have enough to treat many serious case, if a city wide disaster, we would be severely under prepared. I suggest that we send out some electric dragons soon to try and locate more just in case."

"Will they last for another month?"

"Definitely, though we may have to ration them, for only the most serious of injuries."

"I see, we'll speak to the moles running the infirmary and let them decide on what is serious and what is not."

"Terrador this is all well and good but I believe it's time we talk about who will take over for Ignitus. The fire dragons don't fully trust us, they need someone to lead them." Cyril spoke up getting all eyes too turnt to him.

"Yes I'm aware of the problem Cyril, which is why I've increased the number of moles in areas where fire dragons reside. They're currently looking to see who the fire dragons look up to the most, who has the respect and trust of the fire dragons. We can choose a successor later, but for now the moles are working on it." Terrador replied.

Cyril didn't look especially ecstatic about postponing the decision, but he was content to trust Terrador. The meeting went on for a few more hours, most of the problems being brought up were miniscule, and easily solved, other were not however. A fight had broken out between an ice dragon and a earth dragon, leaving one with cuts and bruises and the other with a nasty black eye. The idea of using the guard had come up to not only protect the city of Warfang from outside, but also from the inside.

Problems ranging from a shortage of water, to an unreliable bartering system, were brought up and were dealt with or pushed aside until a solution could be found. Spyro and Cynder added their fair share of ideas, and even gave the guardians an insight on how the citizens felt. The two heroes were invaluable, their insight helped to make better decisions. Finally the elders ran out of problems with the city to discuss and try to fix, leaving all anxious to discuss what would be decided about Boreas's egg.

"Now that we've finished discussing the city's plans, we can move on to the egg." Terrador began.

"If it's alright with you three, Spyro and me have been talking, and we'd like to raise him." Cynder suddenly said, getting all eyes to turn to her and Spyro.

"You want to raise Boreas's egg when it hatches?" Cyril asked sounding like he couldn't believe it.

"Well the truth is, Cynder and me talked about it a little bit yesterday, but we weren't sure what you thought." Spyro supplied one of his clawed paws moving to the other to rub it in a nervous habit.

"You do realize that if you were to raise the whelp inside that egg, that you would not be able to raise your own children?" Terrador said as he eyed the two young dragons carefully.

"What?" Both asked in surprise.

"The old laws of our culture only allowed dragons to raise a single child. It is so that dragons do not struggle with trying to raise more than one whelp at a time. Many families were in ruin because dragons could not feed their children and the guardians of the time stepped in to fix the problem. The parents chose one egg amongst the clutch to raise while the others were raised in temples." Volteer replied looking crestfallen.

"We can't make any exceptions. We've already had the eggs of several couples collected and stored here at the temple, were we to make the exception for the two of you, it could send the citizens into an uproar, they might demand that we return their eggs, or worse, they might leave the city and endanger their lives." Cyril added.

Spyro and Cynder quickly looked at each other, as new doubts began to worm their way into their minds. They wanted to raise the whelp inside of the egg, but they had always thought they'd be allowed to have a son or daughter of their own. This new information was troubling and they didn't want to make any rash decisions. "We...should think about this more…" Spyro finally said, getting a nod from Cynder.

Terrador nodded his head in approval. "Indeed, such a decision should be talked about in length." he paused for a moment as his eye traveled to Boreas's egg a thin smile working its way on his face. "However should you decide that you don't wish to raise the whelp, I have a favor to ask of you Cynder."

"What? Me?" She asked her head snapping to attention.

"Yes. Since the whelp is the only known wind dragon in existence he will not have other wind dragons to teach him how to use his breath." As he said this understanding suddenly dawned on her face. "You are the only known living dragon who can use the wind breath. When the time comes, that the whelp is old enough, I ask that you be there to teach him what you can."

Cynder looked for Terrador to the other two elders to see that they all agreed on the idea. Turning to Spyro she saw that he liked the idea as well, and while he himself didn't personally know how to wield the wind breath he would jump at the chance.

"Understand that while the whelp will not leave at the end of the day with you, you'll will still be responsible for his care." Cyril spoke up.

"Indeed, when he comes of age, you'll be expected to monitor him and make sure he doesn't get in trouble." Volteer quickly added.

"Are you all asking me to be his unofficial mother?" Cynder asked just a little bit confused.

"Indeed." Terrador said with a smirk. "The law does not say you cannot love the child even if he is not yours, it is not much of an alternative, but it is the best we can offer you without breaking the laws and sending the citizens in an uproar."

"I'll take it, thank you Terrador." Cynder said, her mood improving somewhat. True she would not be the whelps mother, but once he grew old enough she'd show him as much love as she could. She knew what it was like to not have parents, so maybe she could at least be there for the whelp.

"Then it is decided, Boreas's egg will stay here in the temple, to be raised with the other clutches." Terrador stated, as he slowly stood. "With that I believe our business is finished for the day. Cyril, Volteer we shall speak later on forming the guard, for now I must move before my joints give me trouble. Spyro and Cynder, it was nice to see you two again, hopefully when the city is running properly you can visit more often."

"We will, and we'll try and keep an eye out for anything the citizens might have a problem with but don't want to come forward about." Spyro said as he approached the larger male. The two embraced in a short hug, before doing the same with Volteer and Cyril, Cynder following his actions soon after, before they turned and said a few more final farewells and left for home.

 **00000**

 **Author's note: First I just want to say that to the guy who wants longer chapters, sorry but you'll be lucky if I get to 4K word count wise. I believe in quality over quantity, but I'll try my best to make the chapters as long as I can.**


	3. Chapter 2: The hatching

In the months that following the funeral of the wind dragoness, several items which had been brought up were quickly resolved. Those among them had involved Cyril's revision of the schools education. In a turn of events that didn't surprise the elders, the citizens were not pleased with the idea of sending their children to the temple, where they eggs had been taken to. Educational material had suddenly popped up and dragons and moles alike stepped forward to provide their knowledge.

The elders warning about the forest had been taken to heart by most of the citizens, the sight of the wind dragoness had more than assured the citizens that the forest was not safe, however the mention of a guard that was taking volunteers, had overjoyed the citizens. The citizens had jumped at the chance and as such the guard was off to a good start. Most of the dragons needed to be trained, but older dragons who had joined had taken it upon themselves to ensure that the younger, less experienced, volunteers were trained. It would take a few months before the guard would be up and running, but the presence of the new guard helped to put to rest some fears the citizens had.

The event which had the entire temple in high spirits however was when the first eggs began to hatch. It had happened without warning, but the elders fearing that the eggs would die due to a failure in the incubation chamber, had shifts of moles who would stay in the room with the eggs to ensure a reasonable temperature was maintained . The shifts had to change once every hour so as to avoid any of the moles overheating, but the moles never seemed to complain, they almost reveled in the thought that they would be around to witness the birth of young dragons.

It had happened about three months after the funeral. The city was just slowly starting to come together, the repairs which had taken the ten years following the ending of the war, were nearly complete and it was estimated that another two years would be needed to get the city's full range of functions back up and running. The citizens were slowly coming to trust the elders, and with Spyro and Cynder's constant assurances that they meant well, the citizens were beginning to finally feel safe. The day in question was average, nothing of great significance was suppose to happen today, no new plans to better the lives of the citizens or gain their trust, no major holiday that the elders were slowly working back into their culture, and certainly no criminal activity of note. The temple was about as quiet as it was going to get.

Then the sound inside the temple grew as stone was repeatedly struck by something soft but heavy, and a shout loud enough to echo even outside of the temple walls. "They're hatching!" The mole said as he ran down the hall towards the elders meeting room. Dragons and moles alike stuck their heads from various door to watch as the mole wearing a light red robe running down the halls. "They're here, they're hatching!" He repeated Several surprised and excited murmurs followed him as many wished to turn and head for the incubation chamber, but they had jobs to do, and so with difficulty they returned to their work though the excitement in the air caused many to work faster and harder.

The mole in the robe who continued to shout his little lungs out, continued down the hall, he would turn and nearly fall before scrabbling to get back up and continue down the hall, all the while his little legs never once seemed to spotting his destination before him, the mole skidded to a halt nearly slamming into the double door, before he began to bang on the hardwood.

"Master Terrador!" He called in glee his little fists still hitting the wood. "They're hatching! The eggs are finally hatching!" The door suddenly opened revealing the three faces of the elders, all appeared to be annoyed at being interrupted, but upon seeing the ragged and out of breath mole, their faces changed to that of curiosity.

"I say my dear fellow, what's got you all wound up?" Cyril asked as he lowered his head to look the mole in the eye.

"Master Cyril!" He shouted again, looking relieved to finally see someone of importance. "The eggs, they're hatching as we speak. I ran to tell you all the great news!"

The annoyance they all felt was quickly replaced by surprise and joy. The hatching of the eggs was a vital step in not only ensuring the survival of the dragon race as a whole, but also the survival of their culture. No other word needed to be spoken, for no words could describe the feelings that any were experiencing. Instead the mole, as if sensing a command which had not been spoken, turned and waved the elders to follow.

The mole was far faster than he appeared, as such the elders were required to move with a speed in which they had not endured in years. The pain that would result from such strenuous activity would later be regretted by the three, but they would gladly accept the pain, as they needed to be their to watch as the eggs hatched. Arriving at the incubation chamber, the large circular stone door glowed briefly before a cracked appeared to run through it and it retreated into the walls on the left and right.

The incubation chamber was a large circular room, with a self like rock protruding from the wall, divots were worked into the stone shelf in a half oval shape. Resting in those divots were eggs of many hues and patterns. Several of the eggs had been cracked open, the shells shattering and sending shards scattered over the floor. Already five whelps had hatched two were earth dragons and they found each other curled around each other in sleep. A third was an ice dragon and was currently struggling in the grip of a mole as she held the whelp off the ground. The last a fourth was an electric dragon and was currently examining the room with curiosity. The fifth whelp, which was just now climbing out of the remains of it's eggs, was a fire dragon., though she was a strange one. Instead of the red or orange scales that were inherent with most fire dragons, her's were a soft pink with slightly darker patches lining her body.

At the sudden entrance of the elders, all eyes turned to them, given the exception of the two earth dragons who still slept. The electric whelp immediately took an interest and was the first to approach the new arrivals though his motor skills had yet to develop and thus he was reduced to crawling. He sniffed at them as a dog would before looking up quizzically. Volteer was the first to act, and with a smile he leaned down to gently nuzzle the whelp. The young dragon ended up falling backwards onto his back but he quickly righted himself and was right back to investigating the new arrivals.

The ice dragon, who the mole still held off of the ground, began her squirming once more and succeeded in freeing itself. Once the whelp was on the ground, it quickly went after the electric hatchling and began to chase it around. The elders had to laugh at the display before it was quickly ended. Three other eggs hatched that day, sadly though the wind dragon had not been among those to hatch, a fact that saddened the elders but was quickly placed aside, Boreas's egg would hatch soon enough, it was only a matter of time.

The elders were right of course, most of the eggs had been laid within a few days of each other. It didn't take longer than two weeks for every egg to hatch. The day that Boreas's egg had hatched had been celebrated by all of the temple, and a few dragons in the city while he wasn't the first to hatch he was by no means the last to hatch either.. Like the first day that the eggs had begun to hatch, the elders could not be their to see his egg hatch, in fact much of what had happened during the first day the eggs began to hatch was repeated.

When the elders had rushed into the incubation chamber for the second time in a week, they were disappointed to find that Boreas's egg was in pieces and the young whelp was slowly crawling on the ground. His nose sniffed the air as he tried to find his mother. It was a sight that saddened the elders, but it could not be helped. The young whelp, who the elders agreed was to be named Boreas, as per the wishes of his mother, was a pale white color, his eyes a deep and curious shade of blue. His wings, much like that of all hatchlings, were small and underdeveloped, not yet ready to attempt flight, he had two small little nubs jutting out from the back of his head, these would later grow to be his horns. His tail had yet to develop a blade but that would grow in later.

Boreas was not the only dragon to hatch that day, six others had hatched as well, and all were quickly taken to have their first meal, after which they were given an examination to ensure they were healthy and then placed in a room where the other hatchlings were. It was little more than a nursery designed to house and care for the young dragons until they were old enough to be afforded their own rooms.

When the last egg had hatched the temple was a light with activity, moles and dragons volunteered to take shifts watching the young dragons. The first week had been hard for the volunteers, as the newborn dragons were a handful. 68 dragons had hatched in total, that was 68 more newborn dragons than most had experience dealing with. Many were curious and tried to run off to explore, some didn't like their handlers and tried to hide, and most were energetic and demanded constant attention, however at the end of the week, the volunteers found that watching and caring for the young one's was getting easier.

The volunteers quickly began to get into a rhythm of things, quickly learning the budding personalities of each young one, and learning their habits, the volunteers were able to avoid most incidents. The one's that they could not avoid, they were able to handle pretty easily. One such incident involved a pink dragoness who accidentally burped up a few embers. The dragoness was in the middle of being fed when it happened and the mole who w

 **00000**

 **A/N: So this chapter is short. Like really short. I wanted to apologize for that but this chapter was mostly filler. Now stop right there because I can already hear what your saying. "But this is the chapter where Boreas finally hatches, it shouldn't be filler, it should be jam packed with awesomeness and cool stuff!" or something along those lines.**

 **Listen guys I totally agree with you on this...which is why I felt I needed to break this up into a separate chapter. So the next chapter will focus on Boreas, but don't expect a lot, he did just hatch after all.**


	4. Chapter 3: Boreas's future

In the incubation chamber, the moles were busy as they dealt with several of the eggs which had begun to show signs of hatching. Only three had been placed in the chamber. One was ensure that the eggs were removed from their stands so that when the young dragons hatched, they didn't fall and hurt themselves. The other mole was to walk around the room and watch the eggs for signs of hatching and alert the first mole, and provide assistance if needed. Finally the last mole was an extra hand, he would would in any way that was needed or he would deliver messages.

Already all three were busy, eggs were hatching left and right and the moles wanted to ensure none would be hurt. It had seemed as if all the eggs that would hatch had already shown signs of their hatching, the moles now huddled around the three eggs they had grabbed and watched intently as cracks spider webbed down the side of the eggs. They didn't even register the same sound coming from behind them.

It started out as a low rattle, as Boreas's egg began to shake in place. Cracks began to run along the sides of the egg and crack open. The moles didn't realize what was happening until finally they looked up, the three eggs the had gathered having finished hatching and three dragons stood there. Spotting Boreas's egg as pieces of the egg began to fall away, one mole quickly turned and ran, the elders would need to know about this, and it was his job to ensure they knew. The first mole however quickly rushed to grab the egg and carefully set it down, while the second mole was busy checking over the other eggs. Along with the first three eggs three more were hatching and they were quickly brought to the floor so that the moles could watch them.

Already light was beginning to shine through the missing pieces of egg, the sight of the white scales underneath caused the moles to hold their breath as they watched the dragon inside move about, trying to push the egg apart. More pieces fell as the wind dragon slammed his head through the egg shell. The egg crumbled and the young whelp fell to the floor on his back. He stayed that way for all but a few seconds before he rolled over onto his feet and began to look around.

Like the three dragons that had hatched moments ago, the wind dragon was looking for something important. He didn't know what it was called, but he knew it should be warm. The room he was in was warm yes, but it wasn't what he was looking for. He craved body heat. Unknown to him or any other newly hatched whelps, what the young dragon sought, was his mother. Crawling with his weakened legs, the wind whelp turned to find his mother but only saw moles.

Sadness was the first emotion the wind dragon felt. It was a deep and stinging emotion that he didn't fully understand, he didn't know why he was sad, he didn't understand what it meant to be sad. Truthfully he didn't know anything, could not even form proper thoughts, instinct and emotion alone were his sole guides and sorrow was all he knew for the moment.

The door to the incubation chamber opened as the three elders rushed inside. They scoured the room looking for Boreas's egg, but they could not find it, instead they found the wind dragon looking up at them with curiosity and sorrow in his eyes. Hope to lingered there, but the whelp knew the elders were not his mother, he felt no pull towards them, no immediate connection that all dragons have with the one who gave birth to them.

"By the Ancestors, a wind dragon!" Terrador said in awe. Even before knowing of the true nature of Boreas's egg, the elders were still in awe. Not many things could surprise them in their old age, but of course the return of a lost race of dragons would do that.

"Quite." Cyril affirmed in just as much awe as Terrador.

Volteer said nothing as he silently watched the young dragon, he looked up at the three elders in curiosity. "Boreas." Volteer simply said getting the two other elders to look at him.

"Come again chap?" Cyril asked in slight confusion.

"Boreas." He replied. "I think it's fitting for his name to be Boreas, it's what his mother wanted, she did call his egg Boreas after all."

"Indeed," Terrador said as he looked down at the young wind dragon. "It's funny though, he doesn't look much like a North wind right now"

 **00000**

Boreas was warm. Though that was to say that he was wrapped tightly in a blanket and laid on a soft cushion inside of a fenced in area of the nursery. After he had hatched, Boreas had quickly been taken to the infirmary. Still in a state of sorrow he barely moved when the moles examined him. They checked his teeth and eyes to make sure he could see and eat. They checked his weight to ensure he was not underdeveloped or underweight.

Once the medical staff was sure that Boreas was healthy, he was quickly sent off to have his first meal, which consisted of bits of small meat and mashed food for easy consumption. Then he was wrapped in a blanket and placed on a warm pillow so that he could rest, however the time to rest had since passed, and with it all of yesterday. Boreas lashed out at the blanket that held him tight, his wish to escape and explore.

Tossing and turning he was able to throw the blanket off of him before he looked around him. His sorrow from yesterday was now gone, the instinct to find his mother gone as well, replaced instead with hunger. He did not have to wait long as already moles and dragons were flooding into the room where he and several other hatchlings had slept in. The room wasn't large enough to house all the dragons who had hatched, and as such they dragon hatchlings had been separated into several different rooms.

The moles and dragons alike held trays of food, though some remained empty handed so that they could corral the hatchlings to a feeder. Boreas was among the first wave of hatchlings to be feed, at the request of the elders. Breakfast for the hatchlings consisted of small bits of meat and milk. Once Boreas had been fed, he was quickly released and allowed to move about freely. His fine motor skills had yet to develop, however that did not stop Boreas from crawling around the room.

Other hatchling who had been fed and left to explore had taken an interest in Boreas. Moving closer they and he began to examine each other before one of the other hatchlings, a pink flame dragoness, playfully swatted at Boreas's snout. The other hatchlings thought this was funny and began to repeat the act on each other, Boreas meanwhile tried to swat back at the dragoness, but she moved away, her motor skills far more advanced having been born a few days prior.

Her ability to stumble away served only to frustrate Boreas, but try as he might, he couldn't stand to follow her. Dejected and angry Boreas sat and refused to move as he slowly began to pout. The dragoness found this funny and stumbled towards him before swatting his snout again. Angry at her joyus giggling, Boreas leaped forward and tackled the dragoness to the ground before swatting at her snout.

They stayed like that for a few seconds before both broke out in giggles and began to wrestle with each other. Other dragon whelps soon joined in. The caretakers did nothing to intervene, this was normal for dragon whelps, this was healthy, this would help them to establish a pecking order. The large wrestling match went on for awhile. Some whelps broke off to do other things others had fallen asleep. Boreas however was busy trying to walk.

The young drake had been among the first to break from the fighting and had isolated himself to a far corner of the nursery, where he would try to stand. His attempts were in vain of course, he would need to wait a few days for his legs to build enough strength to hold his body weight, for now though he would continue to fall to the ground until he got tired and sore from the repetitive action.

The morning soon passed into noon and the whelps were fed again before the caretakers began to play and interact with them. At first however the caretakers found it hard, some whelps would run or try to bite the caretakers. More than a few moles wound up with teeth marks luckily though blood had not been shead. The caretakers had to be vigilant, more than once had they 'misplaced' a whelp only to find them sleeping under a pile of toys.

Boreas however did not get a chance to play with any of the toys, nor did he get the chance to interact with the caretakers. Shortly after being fed one of the elders, Volteer, arrived and took Boreas. Placing the whelp on his back and headed for the meeting chamber. The old dragon didn't fear for Boreas falling off of his back, Young dragons had ridden on the backs of their parents, it was a safe spot for them.

Arriving at the meeting chamber, Volteer pushed the door open. Inside Cyril and Terrador, sat on their respective pillows, while Spyro and Cynder stood next to them. At the appearance of Volteer, they all straightened up as they watched the old electric dragon walk into the room. Laying on his own pillow, Volteer lowered himself as close to the ground as he could. Immediately Spyro moved forward and helped Boreas down before setting him on the ground.

"So this is a wind dragon?" Spyro asked as he lowered himself to the ground to get a better look at the whelp.

"Indeed. He doesn't look like much now, but when he grows older, Boreas will be the first wind dragon to rejoin our culture." Terrador replied as he watched the young wind dragon as he swatted at Spyro's snout.

"I think he likes you Spyro." Cynder giggled as she watched Boreas, who was now trying to bite Spyro.

"You really think so?" Spyro asked laughing himself before he gently pushed Boreas off of his snout.

"In any case, we thought it best if the three of you were introduced as soon as possible, while you will not be allowed to take him him with you, I can think of no better influence for the young dragon than the two of you." Terrador interrupted, turning all eyes to him. "Boreas will have a tough life ahead of him, being the only wind dragon we know of, the responsibility to rebuild his race will rest solely on him."

"That's hardly fair though Terrador!" Spyro replied with a sour note in his voice. "He's only a whelp."

"And as he grows he will face hardships." Cyril butted in, he held a look of sorrow on his face. It was clear he didn't like the thought himself but had little choice in the matter.

"I'm not just training him to use his breath am I?" Cynder asked the elders. The three looked to each other before nodding.

"No, you're not." Terrador said sighing, his voice cracking slightly as he looked down at Boreas. The whelp was currently trying to get Spyro's attention, the sounds of displeasure at being ignored were clear indications of his mood.

"Boreas is...rare." Volteer began speaking up for the first time since laying on his pillow. "As the only known wind dragon in existence his death would mean the end of his race indefinitely. In some respects he is even more rare than you Spyro."

"Huh? Really?" Spyro asked in confusion as he tilted his head slightly.

"Indeed. You see, if you were to die another purple dragon would appear in ten generations time. The purple dragon is a gift from the ancestors and will always hold a place in the world." Volteer explained getting nods from Terrador and Cyril. "Boreas however, is just a regular wind dragon. If his race dies out, they will never return."

"Cynder not only will you teach him to use his element, we are also expecting you to protect him" Cyril said to the dragoness, who looked surprised. "You must understand that without the wind dragons the dragon realms will be open to more disasters."

"Cyril is right. It was the job of all dragons to ensure peace. Fire dragons ensure volcano's do not erupt and cause undue damage, electric dragons soak up the extra lightning in the air to keep major thunderstorms at bay. Earth dragons help to keep earthquakes to a minimum, and ice dragons help to snow and blizzards from destroying crops and snowing people in." Terrador supplied.

"Wind dragons helped to keep tornadoes and hurricanes from major cities and populated areas, while the water dragons helped to redirect floods and tsunamis, with the water dragons gone however many towns and cities who lie on the edges of water fear they may be washed away." Cyril looked at the two heroes his expression serious.

"You will protect him, ensure he survives, and in time guide him." Terrador said as he turned his attention back to Boreas. The young whelp had since given up trying to gain Spyro's attention and was aimlessly wobbling around the room.

 **00000**

 **A/N: Okay so there's a bit more backstory for the dragon races. It's not much but I'm still compiling some personal notes of mine. Anyways The next chapter is going to skip ahead a few years so that I can start writing in Boreas's perspective, although I've got some other projects that need my attention so when the next chapter comes out will be a surprise even for me.**

 **Also I've got a cover for the story now so there's that for you guys. This was made in like...half an hour by a friend of mine. Obviously it's not really in the Spyro style as evidenced by the f***ing ear, but no worries it's still gives you guys something to look at, but I will say this. I love the way his tail came out and the tail will be explained in future chapters so don't worry about being confused about that.**


	5. Chapter 4: The mole city

The tunnels were dark and the lanterns that lined the walls were barely bright enough to light the path of the four young dragons as they traveled farther and farther underground. The passageway was to narrow so the young dragons had to walk in a straight line. The four dragons were well known through Warfang. Their names were on the lips of nearly every dragon, mole and Cheetah, all for different reasons.

At the forefront of the line of dragons was a drake that all know. He was a fire dragon, his red scales a deep red bearing testament to his ancestry. His name was flame, and on many occasions his name was on the lips of many.

" _Did you hear what Flame did, nearly set the entire garden on fire."_

" _I heard that young drake Flame got himself into trouble again, heard he picked a fight with one of the guards."_

" _That lousy Flame, he thinks he's a hotshot, just because the elders are teaching him to be a warrior."_

Those were only some of the comments that could be heard around Warfang, while the others held more vulgar words and less friendly tones. Flame was an adventurous type, his hard headed, hot blooded nature made him a prime target for trouble. Petty squabbles, tarnished honor, and even harmless jokes, all were surefire ways to set the young drake off. Though while jokes at his expense served to raise his ire, he was the first to join in any pranks pulled on others. Fiercely loyal and strong of will, Flame was a good dragon to have as a friend.

The second dragon was a female, her light pink scales while unusual for dragons still pronounced her as a fire dragon, and her name was Ember. There were a great many things to note about this dragoness named Ember, the first of which was how her tail blade had grown in an odd shape which closely resembled a cartoonish heart. This had lead to an obsession on her part and had thus named herself the dragon of love.

Ember took great care in her appearance, her scales were always polished, her claws always filed to perfection, and her horns given a regular cleaning as well. What's more she had sought to further proclaim her title as the Dragon of love, when she had bought a golden necklace with a ruby heart.

Ember's name was spoken of in high regard, though it was done mostly by males, and comments almost always spoke of her beauty and grace. Naturally Ember enjoyed and even encouraged these comments, sadly though it had made her vain and nitpicky. Her body had to always be perfect and clean at all times, and she had demanded that her friends be the same way. Try as they might though, they never could meet her standards, however Ember was not stuck up as most would believe.

Only those who knew her properly knew what she was really like. She would walk around the temple or even Warfang, spoke with the softest of voices, laughed and giggled sweetly to any male who paid her any sort of attention, but when she was around her friends, she was different. Yes she still held herself to such high standards, but with her friends she allowed herself to relax, and while being absolutely clean at all times was her biggest goal in life, She had no trouble at with getting down and dirty, especially when it came to putting certain males in their places.

"It's so dirty down here, I'm going to have to take an hour long dip in the tub when we get back." Ember said whining, the narrow hallway leaving her with only enough room to turn around.

"Ember complain about how dirty it is again and I swear I'll freeze the water just to spite you." The dragon behind her said with an irritated tone.

"Ah, you wouldn't dare Candice!" Ember gasped in shock as she turned her head to face the owner of the voice.

Candice was an ice dragoness, her faded blue scales, almost giving her the look of a wind dragon especially in poor light. 'Candice the cold hearted' many had taken to calling her, a name which had come about when she refused to sugarcoat her words. Candice spoke her mind telling others her opinions on them. Some of her comments had come out as criticisms, and as such she wasn't a very popular dragoness.

Candice came off as rude and hateful because her words were always laced with criticisms, though that was far from the truth as Candice had giving just as many complements as she had given insults, however dragons tended to focus on the negative. The truth was that Candice wasn't at all rude or mean, in fact she was very caring, she just had a unique way of showing how she cared.

"Hey come on guys let's not fight, we're already in enough trouble as it is, let's just get this done and head back to our rooms okay?" The finale dragon at the back of the line asked as he lowered his head.

"Shut up Boreas," Candice said turning to glare at the wind dragon.

Boreas the wind dragon had grown a great deal since the day of his hatching. Now closing in on the age of 10, his wings had developed to a point where he could use them. His horns curled before coming to a point just past his eyes, and his tail blade had finally developed. Most found his tail blade strange. For the most part Dragon's tended to have a tail blade that was solid and unmoving, Boreas however was different.

As a wind dragon, Boreas's body was designed to help him navigate the wind currents, they used all of their body to help them move through the air which included his tail. Most dragons used their tails to help them steer while flying, but they needed to control their tails in such a way that their tail blades didn't slow them down, Boreas however didn't. Boreas's tail blade consisted of six ribbon like blades. Despite how flexible they were, they were still hard enough and sharp enough to cut someone if they were to be hit by them.

"Hey don't tell him to shut up." Flame yelled at Candice. "It's thanks to him that we got off as easily as we did. We should be thanking him,"

"Flame's right, the elders seem to favor Boreas more than any other dragon." Ember replied turning to smirk at the wind dragon.

Blushing Boreas looked away. "No they don't guys, the elders only listened to me because I've never lied to them." Boreas replied as he shook his head. "Besides that doesn't matter now, if we screw this up it won't matter what I say to the elders, we'll all be on cleaning duty for the next three months, so can we stop arguing long enough to get this done?"

Everyone stopped as they turned to look at Boreas. The wind dragon had never been very outspoken, even around his friends, he'd agree to what they said many times in the past simply because he didn't want to bring unwanted attention to himself however there were rare times when Boreas would show a bit of courage and amaze his friends, not only with his change of personality but also in the way he spoke, he was like a voice of reason among his friends.

"Boreas is right," Flame finally spoke up as he turned back around and continued to head down the corridor. "If we arrive at the mole city and were fighting, the moles will report back to the elders and we'll all be stuck in the kitchens cleaning plates and scrubbing floors."

"Scrubbing floors is _not_ very clean," Ember mumbled as she turned to follow Flame before passing him completely.

"Sorry Boreas." Candice apologized before she followed after Ember.

Sighing in relief that the situation had been defused so quickly Boreas began to follow his three friends. As he caught up to them, however, Flame held up a wing and stopped Boreas, allowing the girls to put some distance between the two males. Once they were a sufficient distance so as not to be heard, Flame turned to Boreas and smirked.

"You got to tell me what you promised the elders to get us out of trouble." Flame whispered as he walked after the girls, maintaining the distance.

"I didn't promise them anything," Boreas replied as he avoided looking at Flame.

"Boreas, the reason you never lie to the elders is because you can't lie so come on what was it?"

Laughing Boreas shook his head. "I didn't have to promise the elders anythings, I swear" He said his tone light, causing Flame to stop for a moment and stare at his friend. After awhile he nodded his head and smiled as well.

"Alright so then you are the elder's favorite, that's got to be it, why else would they take it so easy on us." Flame asked.

Shaking his head in confusion, Boreas continued ahead. "I don't know, maybe with the ceremony so close at hand, they didn't want to cause a big fuss over a small fight." Boreas suggested earning a thoughtful nod from flame.

"That makes sense, this is suppose to be the biggest event to happen in the last two hundred years that didn't end in bloodshed."

Nodding his head, Boreas continued to follow Ember and Candice. His outward appearance was calm but on the inside, he was a mess of thoughts and questions. The ceremony that he and Flame had been speaking of, was indeed a big deal. The graduation ceremony was an event that was held by the dragon temples. The ceremony was held ten years after a dragon had been born in the temples care, and it was at this time that said dragons would choose a path that would influence what they did for the city of Warfang and dragon kind in general.

While it was not required for a dragon to take the ceremony, it was highly advised to do so. The ceremony was a tradition that all dragon races had celebrated, and many considered it a sign adulthood. The details of the ceremony were kept from the dragons who would be participating, but one detail that the elders had allowed them to know, was that the ceremony consisted of three choices. Those who wanted to protect Warfang and the dragon realms would choose the warrior path. Those that wanted to ensure that the dragon realms could heal and prosper would choose the medical class, and finally those who wanted to see Warfang and the dragon realms grow, would choose the business path.

The great thing about the choices that were presented to the young dragons was that despite what they had been named, each path had a wide variety of jobs that the class would prepare them for, and no dragon was limited to a single choice, even more so since it was not against any laws for a dragon who choose a warrior path, to instead choose a job in the medical class, though the young dragons had been warned about doing so, as choosing a job from a different path than their original, would leave them unprepared.

It was on theses details that Boreas was currently focusing on, and the decision he would have to make soon, though he wasn't allowed to think on it for long. A shout from ahead alerted him that they had arrived at their destination. Running to catch up with Ember and Candice, he noticed that walls of the long hallway slowly began to widen before opening into a large cavern. The sound of footfalls behind he, told Boreas that Flame had just stopped behind him, his slightly increased breathing, told Boreas that Flame had been running as well.

Ember and Candice stood wide eyed and slack jawed, Moving to stand beside Candice, it was not hard for Boreas to see why they were so surprised. Stalagmites and stalactites dotted the cavern, but what made them all the more astonishing was the fact that light could be seen coming from them, or rather from small holes that served as windows. All over the cavern, the stalagmites and stalactites had been turned into homes, windows and doors could been seen on nearly all of them, and little wooden bridges would connect upper levels with the stalactite homes. Despite the lights that came from the homes however, the corridor was still dim, the brightest source of light, coming from farther back in the cavern.

"I'm assuming you're the four dragons, the elders sent to help us?" Came a voice from below them all. Turning their heads to the ground, they saw a rather plump looking mole wearing a dirty brown cotton shirt and vest. Missing from his head were the goggles that most moles could be seen wearing.

"Yeah that's us." Flame responded as he stepped forward to assume leadership.

The mole turned to face Flame, before eyeing him. Making mental notes inside of his head the mole grunted in annoyance. "Great, I ask for an earth dragon, and they send me two fire dragons, and ice dragon, and a….well we can make use of the wind dragon, I could probably send the ice dragon to the water plant, and one fire dragon would be enough for the forges, but what about the second?" The mole said aloud, more to himself than to any of them. This enraged Flame who believed the mole was insulting him.

Boreas sensing Flame's anger simply put a paw on his shoulder. Huffing in annoyance, smoke seeped from Flame's nostrils, which immediately got the moles attention. "Hey, hey hey! Watch it with the smoke will you! You wanna kill every mole in here?" He asked as he pointed an accusing finger at Flame.

"What? No!" Flame tried to defend himself but the mole didn't allow him to say any more.

"Could have fooled me, a little smoke doesn't seem like much now, but to much of it and every mole will die of smoke inhalation!" The Mole said angrily.

"But I didn't-" Flame tried again before the mole cut him off yet again.

"I don't wanna hear it. Keep your flames to yourself until we tell you otherwise, you got it?" Unsure of it he should speak or not, Flame simply nodded his head, before he gave Boreas a questioning glance, Boreas merely shrugged his shoulders in just as much confusion as Flame.

"Alright let's make this quick, I'm a busy mole and I've wasted enough time waiting on your four. I don't care what your names are, and you don't need to know mine. All you need to know, is what I'm going to have you doing." The mole began before turning and pointing a finger at Flame. "Since you love your bloody flames so much I'm going to be assigning you to the forge, you're going to be helping my moles control and maintain the lava we use for making our tools."

Turning to Candice and Ember he grumbled a bit before speaking up. "You two are going to the water plant, there you'll help to purify the water we drink." He said before turning to Boreas. "Finally you're going to go around the walls of our city and help our workers in any way you can. Before I take any of you any further, you'll notice it's dark, to dark for any of you to see properly, so go ahead and strap these lanterns on and let's go." The mole said before he pointed to a small wooden rack that held the lanterns.

They were little more than metal boxes with a focusing lens on the front. An unlit candle sat in the center of each lantern,. Attached to the lanterns were leather straps that would fix the lanterns to the chest of it's wearer. Moving towards the lanterns, Ember looked over them before turning to the mole.

"Do you have one in pink….and maybe not so dirty!" She asked getting a sigh from Candice and an annoyed growl from the mole, causing her to shrink back a bit. "Never mind." She replied before she picked up one of the lanterns.

The others followed her lead and quickly grabbed their own lanterns. A few minutes of confusion one broken strap and a new lantern later and all four dragons had properly fastened the lanterns to their bodies. With Flame and Ember's help, the lanterns were light and the mole nodded before he turned and without a word baid them to follow him. The mole lead the four dragons down to the city, though the trip was a quiet one. Any attempt to make conversation with either the mole or each other was met with an angry growl and a command to be quiet.

Flame was the first to leave the group. The mole had brought all four of them to the farthest end of the cavern, where the orange light had been emanating. As the mole had said earlier Flame would be working with lava. It was so hot, Candice nearly passed out. The next to leave was Candice and Ember. The mole had lead them to a large underground lake. Large intake pipes had been built on the edge of the lake and water was constantly being drained into large tubs where moles worked to test the water and ensure it was safe to drink. Finally The mole lead Boreas to one of the farthest walls of the cavern.

Sniffing the air, Boreas could smell the fresh air from outside, and a small tingling sensation worked its way down his spine as he felt a small breeze. Up ahead the Mole stopped before he looked around and called out. "Marty! I got the dragon the elders sent!" he yelled into the air. Shortly after another mole walked out of the wall.

Upon closer inspection of the wall, Boreas could see that it was actually lined with large tunnels. Moving closer to the wall, Boreas could feel a breeze coming from the wall, and it suddenly occurred to him what theses tunnels really were. Living underground, the moles needed a constant source of fresh air, even more so considering that the mole city was considered and industrial city. It made sense why they would need ventilation tunnels, and his reason for being here now became much clearer.

"Morease, glad to see you back." The mole named Marty said as he moved to shake paws with the aforementioned Morease. Breaking from their greetings Marty turned his gaze to Boreas before giving an impressed whistle. "So the elders finally sent us the only wind dragon left in the dragon realms?" He said more to himself than to Morease. "Well I won't lie, I haven't seen him work but I already like him over Cynder." A small growl escaped Boreas, at Marty's remark causing both moles to turn and look at him in surprise.

"Don't talk bad about my teacher." He warned before changing the subject. "So the elders want me to clear out these ventilation shafts is that it?" He asked as he turned his head to the tunnels, Looking into the tunnels, he found that they were no bigger than the one that had led him and his friends into the Mole city. Looking into the tunnel, he pulled his wings in tighter.

"Well he's smart, I'll give him that." Morease said before smirking, "But no that's not quite what we want you to do."

"You may not have figured it out yet, but the mole city isn't exactly underneath Warfang. It would be more accurate to say that we overlap with Warfang. In truth only a small part of the mole city is directly underneath Warfang, while the rest of the city spreads outwards." Marty began to say, however Boreas interrupted him.

"What does this have to do with me clearing out the tunnels though?" He asked confusion crossing his face.

"Shut your trap and let us get there." Morease barked at him in annoyance.

"The mole city's fighting force isn't what you would consider battle ready. We rely on the machines we build to provide us with protection, but being underground many of them are to dangerous to set off. Keeping all of that in mind, we've been have problems with the cursed that dwell in the nearby forest."

"They're getting bolder." Morease added. "We found a few trying to take up residence in one of the nearby tunnels, last week. We drove em back but ever since the elders have been sending Cynder to come clear the tunnels out, only problem with that is, she makes some of us uncomfortable."

"So you want me to go into the tunnels and make sure none of the cursed are inside?" Boreas asked as he turned to face the tunnels.

"Precisely." Both moles said at the same time.

"We don't expect them to be inside, but we'd rather be safe than sorry." Marty added.

Sighing he shook his head, the thought of rejecting their offer clear on his mind, but he stopped. There was a good reason why he was here. He didn't want to admit it to his friends, mostly because he didn't want them to look at him differently, but Flame had been right, the elders had granted them leniency, but there was a cost to their leniency, and doing this was it. To Refuse now would be to let his friends be punished.

"Fine," he said as he moved past the moles and headed for the large tunnel. "Just give me a couple hours."

* * *

 **A/N: Now I know I said I was going to make this a baby Boreas Chapter, but I couldn't honestly find a good way to write that so you've got this instead. I want to apologize for the long wait on this one, and I'd like to apologize on the long wait for the next chapter. I've recently applied for college, and with work and that, I have no free time to write as freely as I want. I'm hoping things will calm down soon but if not, this story may be placed on Hiatus until after summer break.  
**


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